


Talk Dirty To Me

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breeding, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Rough Sex, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 23:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Jo and Dean celebrate twenty years together, but things go a little sideways when Jo unintentionally insults him.





	Talk Dirty To Me

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Kink Bingo 2019, this fills my FINAL square, Breeding. This also fulfills my mini-bang for SPN Trope Celebration, filling the tropes breeding and dirty talk. Art at the end by @mere-mortifer as a part of SPN Trope Celebration.

Rare were the moments Dean breathed easy. But tonight, he had. For the first time in decades, he had nothing to worry about.

As he dried the last of their dinner plates, Dean hummed along to the steady rock beat of _Nothing but a Good Time_ as it played on the record player. Beside him, Jo bobbed her head and swayed her hips as she wiped down the sink and hummed with him. Together they had prepared a dinner fit for kings, and they had eaten like the royalty they had always said they were. Most hunters weren't so lucky to find a love like theirs. Even when they did, it rarely lasted, and for predictably unfortunate reasons.

But Dean and Jo? They'd cheated death, fate, God, destiny, the whole gamut more times than you could shake a stick at. No, the years had not been kind to them. And yet they'd made it through twenty of them together. So, on the eve of their anniversary, they had decided to celebrate.

They owed it to themselves. Not that they hated hunting. But back when Dean turned forty, talks of retirement had started. Jo had tried her damnedest to get him to hang it up a few years earlier, but it had taken another narrow miss on Sam's behalf—a wendigo had pinned him dead to rights if it hadn't been for Eileen’s quick thinking—for Dean to call it quitting time.

Hunters never truly retired. With Sam and Eileen only a few minutes into town, the four of them worked small cases nearby, run of the mill salt n' burns, the occasional werewolf. Nothing more than a few hours’ drive away. Angels, demons, and Chuck had, at long last, decided it was high time they stop fucking with the Winchesters and their family. With four averted apocalypses, the near extinction of angels, and an empty throne in Hell blocked by Sam, those cosmic beings finally figured out it was time to give it a god damn rest once and for all.

The bright clinking of crystal snatched Dean's attention as he finished drying the last plate. Over his shoulder he found Jo pouring out the end of a twenty-one-year scotch, plenty to keep them both warm and toasty on that chilly fall night. Jo hefted her glass, crystal on her pale pink lips, and Dean watched, mesmerized by the bob of her throat. She hadn't aged a day if he had anything to say about it. Still the brave, boundless soul he had met all those years ago, Jo Harvelle had wrapped him around her little finger the day they’d met. After she had punched him in the nose, that was.

“I'm a little sad,” she mused as she held her glass up to the light. The warm amber liquor flickered as she peered through the crystal. “Was a particularly good bottle of Dal.”

With the plate put away, Dean crossed the kitchen and took his glass from her. “We’ll find another,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her, hand resting at the small of her back. A sip from his glass extracted a pleased hum through his nose. “Damn, that is good. You sure know how to pick 'em.”

Jo grinned. “Comes with the territory. And you outdid yourself tonight. A cowboy that knows how to cook pheasant. Color me surprised.”

A swell of pride warmed his cheeks. Or maybe it was the whiskey. “I'll have to keep that recipe. You enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it?” she scoffed. “Was like eating candy,” she continued as she sat at the kitchen table.

A moment of silence lingered between them, and for once, it settled not with anxiety, but peace and serenity. Dean allowed himself the space to drift there a little longer, but when he regarded Jo, he found her smile had faded and the excited glow in her eye dimmed.

With sudden clarity, she met his gaze and said, “I got lucky with you, you know?”

Dean sat beside her around the corner of the table, his hand around hers as it cupped her glass. “How so?”

She thought a moment, big hazel eyes searching the room for the words. “You’re kind. Kindest man I’ve ever met. You've always been sweet to me no matter what.” Her smile contorted, sardonic. “I don't know what I ever did to deserve you.”

If she thought she was lucky then what did that make him? Any luckier and he’d get struck by lightning. “You were you,” Dean started as he took her hand in his. “Simple as that. You didn't have to do anything but be yourself, sweetheart.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them, one by one.

“Stop,” she whined with her half-hearted protest and rosy cheeks. “I'm serious, Dean. You were so sweet to me. Even at nineteen, I’d met my fair share of men, and not a single one of them came close to treating me with any kind of the respect or dignity you did. Hell, even in bed, you were more courteous and caring than most people are in public. You still are!”

Courteous? Caring, sure, but courteous? “Am I really that boring to sleep with?”

She laughed her obnoxious cackle at that, with a hand to her stomach as she leaned back, and her shoulders shook. “Oh, honey, don't worry, you’re a damn good lay.”

His nose scrunched as he thought for a moment. “Damn good lay? Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”

Jo stood then and drained her glass before she spoke. “Gimme a break. You know you’re very respectful and courteous in bed. I don't think I've ever even heard you say anything remotely dirty during sex.”

Ever? Not once had he so much as mumbled a, “fuck me, Jo,” or, “ride my cock”? Impossible. There was no way.

Except the look in her eye said otherwise. Impulse gripped him in a thoughtless vice, and Dean snatched her wrist as she stepped towards the sink. Jo stumbled to a halt with an indignant squawk and glared at him. From his chair, he stared into her eyes without raising his head, his brow cocked and a subtle purse to his lips. When she remained still, Dean said, “I can change that.”

A beat of bated breath lingered between them, Dean holding her enraptured gaze. He leaned into her, inched closer as he coaxed her to him with a delicate pull of her wrist, and in that a moment, Dean thought he had convinced her. That was, until she broke, her barking laughter ringing through the entire house. A patronizing hand smoothed his hair as she kissed the top of his head and sighed.

When she attempted to pull from his grasp Dean held her firm. Jo struggled against his grip and her laughter ended abruptly. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

Dean stood, rising to his feet with a slow and steady straightening of his back. His shoulders rolled as he jerked her flush to his chest, and Jo protested with a feeble repeat of her question. “Dean? What's going on?”

The idea of treating her with anything less than every ounce of his respect stayed his hand. But if all she asked for was some dirty talk, he could do that. At least, he wanted to. He wanted to give her whatever she wished. The longer he thought on it, the more he understood. And the more he understood, the harder his cock strained against his pants.

Before he pushed himself any further, Dean placed a tender kiss to her lips as he cupped her cheek. Tension oozed from her shoulders as she melted into him, her free hand smoothing over his arm as she set her glass on the table. With great care, he timed his move and grabbed her hand, then spun her back to him. Her protest clipped short when he pinned her hips to the edge of the table, his entire body flush to hers and bearing over her shoulder. With his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

Jo bucked her hips into his groin a she hummed her approval through her nose, but Dean held her hard and fast against the table. Damn her and her writhing body. In new territory, he wanted to take his time, but he worried he might not get the chance. But if she wanted him in that way, then it would have to be under his conditions, his control.

“You'll do as I say?” he asked.

Another lewd sigh fell from her parted lips. “Yes, Daddy.”

The shudder that rolled along his spine weakened his knees. If she joined in on the dirty talk, their foray might not last very long. “Then only I get to talk,” he whispered into her ear. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mewled.

Dean grunted under the strain of control, far too eager to feel her wrapped around him again. Deep breaths steadied his hands as he reached beneath her arms and unbuttoned her jeans. “I want to fuck you, sweetheart. I want to fuck you and come inside you.”

Another shudder rolled through her body and echoed in his as she moaned a long high cry. God, but her voice alone was enough to unravel him to bare threads. In a fit of frustration, he grasped the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head. Long blonde waves cascaded down her back and Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck as he grasped her breasts. Between the nips and licks and kisses, Dean spoke through his labored breaths. “Fuck, sweetheart, I love your tits.”

Her restrained whimper caught in her throat, more of a grunt than a sigh. That she struggled against her instinctive reactions aroused Dean further, a blurry haze clouding his thoughts. He wanted proof of what his words had done to her, and so, he slipped his hand down her stomach towards her pants. Palpable tension heaved her chest as he smoothed her skin with the flat of his hand until it slipped beneath the fabric and Dean found what he so desperately sought.

“So wet for me already. You really do enjoy this,” he continued as his fingers slipped inside her. “God, I can't wait to fuck you,” he started, “Can't wait to pound your pretty little cunt with my cock until I come inside you and put a baby in your belly.”

If Dean hadn’t felt it, he wouldn't have believed it, but Jo's entire body convulsed, and her pussy clenched around his fingers. Nonsense fell from her lips as she attempted to remain quiet like he had demanded. At least she couldn’t string more than three words together otherwise he might have come in his pants. “Good girl,” Dean whispered in her ear. “I like it when you follow orders. But I like it when you beg me for it, too,” he teased as his fingers pumped her flesh.

“Oh, fuck, Dean, I’m so close, please,” she cried. “I’m gonna come, please, harder, keep going!”

Christ, was that all it took? A couple fingers and a few salacious words? What exactly had he said that had shoved her so violently into delirium? He wrapped his arms tighter around her as he rolled the hard shaft of his cock against her ass through their clothes, determined to find out. “Do you like it when I tell you how much I want to fuck you?”

Jo merely nodded as she turned into his lips for a quick kiss. While pleasing, he had hoped for a different answer. “What about coming inside you? Do you like that? Do you like the idea of my cum pouring out of your pussy?”

Another depraved moan burst from her lips, but again, she said nothing of note. It occurred to him then that, after years of endless hunting and instability, something else he had said might be closer to the truth than he ever expected.

A grin widened his smile as he whispered in her ear. “You want a baby.”

As if the world had come to a screeching halt, Jo froze. Her entire body seized, completely still but for the hard thumping of her heart. “How did you know?”

Dean released her breast as he laughed a wicked laugh through his nose. “Because the idea of me knocking you up has you wetter than I've ever felt,” he stated a he withdrew his fingers from her sex. In the kitchen light, her arousal glistened on his middle and ring finger as strings of her fluid stretched between them. “Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

Jo did as he said, lips parted and tongue reaching as he slipped his fingers into her mouth. Sealed, she sucked him clean, and Dean braced himself against her hips as he withdrew his fingers with a pathetic moan. Damn that woman and her sinful mouth. If he wasted anymore time toying with her, she’d ruin his shorts without even trying. And he couldn't have that. They were just getting started.

“So,” he started as he wrapped his arms around her once more, hands smoothing her stomach. “Do you want me to put a baby in your belly?”

“I just want you to fuck me, Dean,” she growled as she pried at her pants.

Dean snatched up her wrists, gathered in one hand and pinned them to the small of her back. “Oh, slow down, honey. We’ll get there,” he teased as his free hand slipped her jeans over her ass. “Lord knows I want to bury my cock in your sopping cunt right now and pound into you until I fill you with my seed. But where's the fun in that?” He nipped at the shell of her ear and Jo writhed as if to escape him. “Yeah, you love this, don't you? Never heard me talk to you like this, like you’re my little plaything to fuck and fill and breed whenever I want. You’re my mare and I'm your stallion.”

All manner of divine whimpers and moans sounded on her breathless lips at his words. But the end was in sight. He wished to string her out longer—maybe she would come if he kept talking that way—but if he kept at it, he'd never make good on any of his promises. So Dean slipped his fingers into the hip of her underwear and tugged them to her ankles where Jo flung them aside with a swift flick of her ankle.

“I'm gonna let you go, sweetheart,” he whispered, “and I want you to stay right where you are. Do you understand?”

Jo nodded with a vigorous shake of her head as she leaned against the kitchen table. Dean, however, was unsatisfied with that response. “Say it. Tell me you understand.”

Ever the seductress, Jo shot him a coy smirk over her shoulder. “I understand, Daddy. I won't move an inch,” she said in her best simpering tone.

“Good girl,” Dean groaned through gritted teeth as he released her hands. A step back separated them and he stripped himself of shirt and pants. Jo continued to watch over her shoulder, and when he stood in only his briefs, she spoke.

“I could help with those.”

A sharp slap rang through kitchen as Dean's hand connected with her bare ass, and Jo shrieked in shock. “You'll do as I say,” he stated as he returned to her, the bulge of his cock nestled between her cheeks. “I'll fuck you when I'm good and ready,” he continued as he dragged a finger between her sopping lips. “God damn, I love how wet you are. Spread those legs for me, sweetheart, I wanna see it.”

Jo did as he ordered, feet parted and hips rolled. “Oh, yeah, that's it,” he sighed, “Do you like presenting yourself to me? Offering up your dripping pussy for me to fuck? Is that your way of asking me to breed you?”

“Yes!” Jo cried, “Dammit, Dean, just do it already!”

Her thighs quivered beneath his touch as Dean grasped the meat of her ass and spread her. “Oh you are ready for me,” he cooed. “Ready for me to put a baby in you. God, I can't wait to see your belly grow,” he teased as he smoothed her flat stomach. “And I'll remind you how it happened.” One hand slipped into her hair and wrenched her head back, her ear to his lips once more. “I'll remind you how I put that baby there, how I fucked you like the dirty little girl you are and filled your cunt with my seed and impregnated you.”

By then, Jo could hardly stand on her own two feet. She had all but melted against the table, Dean supporting her grasping hands with one arm. Despite her weak legs and heaving shoulders, Jo spoke. “Yes, Dean, please, I want it. Put a baby in my belly. Fuck me like I'm your little slut.”

If he hadn't strung himself out so thoroughly, Dean might have punished her for that. But after all his talk and the way her body had responded, the ache in his balls and the engorged length of his cock demanded release. He barely bothered with his briefs beyond shoving them to his thighs and his cock fell free to land squarely between her cheeks. The convulsion of Jo’s entire body rattled Dean to his very core with a grunt.

He grasped the base of his cock and angled the tip to her cunt, dragged in her ample arousal. “You ready, darlin’?”

Jo nearly wept with want. “Yes, Daddy, please, fuck me,” she mewled as she leaned over the table, chest flush to its dark oak surface. “I want to feel you come inside me.”

A snarl escaped his gritted teeth as Dean forced himself to maintain control. He wanted nothing more than to slam his cock into her, bottom out and hear her scream his name, beg for more until she incoherently babbled. “You will, my dirty little girl,” he sighed as he continued to tease her pussy. “But I'm not done having fun with you yet.”

The first sign of her frustration rattled the table as Jo hammered her fist on the heavy wood. Dean found her bottom lip pinched between her teeth when he looked up to her, face pink and hair matted to her forehead with sweat. He dug deep for the stamina to hold out a little longer as he dropped to his knees, grasped her ass, and spread her wide for his tongue.

The smooth, bitter sluice of her arousal filled his mouth as Dean sealed his lips on hers and sucked her clean. With each lap, Jo writhed as she moaned, as she clawed at the table and begged for more. Fuck, he wanted her in the worst way, but he knew the longer he held out, the sweeter their end would be. “I love the way you taste, sweetheart. So fucking good,” he mumbled into her ass. “Can’t wait to taste my cum as it drips from your cunt. Do you want that? Want me to eat your pussy after I come in it?”

The howl that rent from Jo’s bitten lips startled them both. “God dammit, Dean, will you just fuck me?!” Her fist landed on the table again. “Shut up and put that baby in my belly already!”

He buried his face between her cheeks, tongue shoved as far as he could reach into her pussy. Another high cry of arousal rang from her open mouth as Jo reached back and grabbed a fistful of his hair. In earnest, Dean sucked her flesh, lips and tongue driving her arousal to its completion. When he felt her fingers reach for her clit, he grasped her wrist and wrenched it behind her back, much to her frustration. But the pure wanton whimper he extracted from her as his thumb circled that little bundle of nerves was worth every bit of her ire.

Within seconds of his attention, Jo unraveled in a mess of moans, curses, and shivering convulsions. Shocks of her orgasm flexed her cunt and Dean sighed his own heightened arousal into her. In the wake of her release, the desperation for his own flailed wildly out of control, driving him to his feet. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked as he angled his cock, so painful with engorgement, to her dripping cunt again. “You wanted to come on my face, huh?”

Through her heaving breaths, Jo spoke. “Yeah, but,” she paused with a thick swallow, “I want that big fat cock of yours in my pussy, now,” she finished with a wild buck of her hips.

So perfectly primed for him, Jo glided onto his cock so fast, the smack of their bodies as they met rang like a struck bell. Together they moaned, Jo sated at long last and Dean digging deep for restraint. Damn her and her perfect cunt. “Fuck me, sweetheart, you feel so damn good after all that.” He sighed. “How does that feel for you?”

“Amazing,” she breathed as she rolled her hips. “But you know what would feel better?”

Dean withdrew from her and nearly collapsed. He grasped her hips, nails biting into the meat of her flesh, and hunched over her back. “Damn, I wanna fuck you so bad, but I need a minute.” He sighed, frustrated. “I'm… God, I could come right now.”

Jo’s pleased hum damn near undid him then and there. “Take your time, babe, I'll… try to be patient,” she said with a little laugh. “Gonna cost you though.”

Slow strokes eased him up to a steady pace with smooth rolls of his hips. Before Jo, Dean had found sex to be relaxing, a relief from the terrifying reality he lived every day. And while he often mixed work and play, he only ever viewed that time away from the job as just that: a break. But then he had met her, and sex took on an entirely different meaning, gained a drastically different purpose for him. And no, it wasn’t some ridiculous notion of love. That he had in spades from her regardless of sex. But for once in his life he could be so brutally vulnerable with someone and not give a single shit about it. That had changed him in ways he had never fathomed possible.

“You’re thinking so loud, I can hear the gears working in your head,” Jo said with a buck of her hips.

Dean grunted as she bottomed out against his thighs. “Sorry,” he said under his breath and squeezed her hips. “I needed a minute. Didn't want this to end… prematurely,” he jested.

Another roll of her hips stroked his cock. “I dunno, Dean, I'm ready for whatever you've got left in the tank.”

“Really?” Dean groaned as he slipped into her, pelvis to ass. “A car reference?”

She shimmied her hips as she looked over her shoulder, coquettish enough for an old magazine he might have owned once upon a time. “You are though. Big, tough, dependable. Like a big ol' pickup. You sure know how to haul my ass around.”

Dean took a moment to admire her backside, that supple curve of her ass. He followed its smooth line to his cock wrapped in her pussy and coated in her creamy arousal. “I do, don't I?” he mused. With a snap of his hips, he buried himself in her, and Jo cried out a heavenly moan. “I've had a lot of practice the last few years,” he continued as he withdrew. “Been fucking this pussy for over a decade,” he said as he slammed into her again, and she choked back her moan. “Then again, you've been riding my dick for just as long. I think you might know me better,” he paused. “Like how you knew I'd find all this kinky, dirty talk so easy.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jo started with a whimper, “I know my Daddy very well.”

His pace picked up as he continued to thrust. “Christ, sweetheart, you keep calling me that and I might have to do something about it,” he growled as he smoothed a hand up her spine.

Beats of his hips against her backside marked her moan as Jo arched her back at his touch. “Yeah, Daddy? What are you gonna do to me?”

He thrust harder, their bodies slapping against one another and he felt the subtle flex of her cunt around his cock. “Teach you a lesson,” he growled as his hand slipped into her hair at the nape of her neck. With a rough jerk, he hauled her up to his chest and wrapped his other arm over her hip. “Fuck you silly and empty my load in you.”

Her hands mirrored his, one in his hair and the other grasping the back of his arm. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she mewled. “Fuck my pussy raw and gimme that baby.”

An almighty roar burst from his chest as Dean wrapped his fingers around her throat and pounded his cock into her. After such relentless teasing, he could pump into her flesh for hours, and a part of him wanted to, wanted to rail against her ass for a long as she would let him. He had half a mind to do it. But when Jo gasped and her breath caught in her throat, he knew what followed.

The first subtle sensation quivered in her thighs, the signs of her release hot on its heels. Relentlessly, Dean thrust into her, harder and faster as she found her voice, the long keening moan sung through his grasp of her throat. “Yeah, Jo, come for me. Come all over my cock, I want to feel you come on me,” he urged. “C'mon, honey, be Daddy's dirty little girl and come for me.”

“Yes, fuck, Dean, harder, fuck my pussy!” Jo begged. “Make me come, Daddy!”

Between her thighs, Dean plunged his hand, fingertips searching for and finding her clit. Furious circles rubbed as he thrust as fast as he could, delirious with his impending release. He split at the seams, unraveled as she had earlier, and his climax slammed into him harder than a speeding train.

No preamble, no hint, no warning could have prepared them. Jo cried out a strangled moan, short and incomplete as she clenched around him with the sudden onslaught of his own release. “Shit, Jo, I'm gonna come,” he growled, “I'm gonna come inside you and fill you up and breed you.”

“Yes, give it to me, Dean,” she whined in time with the smack of his hips against her ass. “Fuck my pussy, I wanna feel you come.”

There was no resisting her demands. Even if he had wanted to, Dean couldn't hold back any longer. Each flex of her cunt echoed in a hard throb of his cock, the heat between his thighs spreading like wildfire through his entire body as his orgasm surged. That first long, hard twitch filled her with a load the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. 

His thrusts stuttered wildly with each throb that followed, encouraged by the aftershocks of Jo's climax. The pale mixture of his seed and her cum spread to her thighs as she writhed against him in the wake of their climax, riding out that euphoric wave until she slumped in his arms.

Dean released her throat and withdrew his hand from her core. With his free hand, he stripped his underwear to the floor, then kicked them up for him to catch. “Here,” he said as he handed them to Jo, and she took them without question.

“Thanks,” she whispered, voice hoarse and dry. She shoved the bundle of fabric between her thighs, ready and waiting.

A steady breath steeled himself before he withdrew from her, half-flaccid cock falling free and dripping with their fluids. In a moment of panic, he searched the floor for his undershirt, found it, and snatched it up to clean himself. Once satisfied, he discarded the ruined cloth on the floor, then turned to Jo and scooped her up in his arms.

She laughed a soft hum through her nose, all sorts of delight dancing across her face. “That was kinda fun,” she teased.

Dean headed for the stairs and laughed his deep baritone. “I wouldn't get too used to it,” he said as he ascended the first steps. “I think I need about an hour in the tub with you after that.”

Deft fingers carded through his hair at the back of his head as Jo grinned. “That sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “I could use a long soak after that workout.”

“Good,” Dean said, her smile mirrored on his lips as he topped the stairs and turned for their bedroom. There he carried Jo into their bathroom, a wide space with a tub big enough for the both of them. He set her on her feet, then started the water.

Jo sat on the tiled ledge of the tub as she grabbed the bag of Epsom salt and poured a handful into it. “I'm kinda surprised where your mind went with all that vulgarity,” she mused.

Dean's cheeks stung as he wrapped his arms around her. “I know, I… I just used whatever came to me in the moment, I’m sorry,” he explained as he squeezed her closer. “I feel a little dirty. Kinda gross. That’s why…” he trailed off once more as he pointed at the bath.

Bless her heart. Jo eased his worries with nothing but her soft smile. “I loved it,” she said. “Everything you said was perfect. It was hot and sexy and dirty all at once.”

“Yeah but…” his voice broke, trailed off into the distance. Dean frowned as he search for the right words. “I wanna treat you the best way I can, be the best man for you. And that… something about it doesn’t feel right.”

A delicate step carried Jo into the tub where she sat, the water barely covering her ankles. “You know what, that’s fine. You don’t have to like it. And we never have to do it again. But I appreciate that you tried it once for me.”

Relief washed over him, tension seeping from his shoulders. “You’re awesome, you know that?” he said as he stepped into the tub beside her. As it filled, he slid beside her and wrapped her in his arms once more. “Like, the best woman I’ve ever met.” He thought a moment before remembering with stark clarity some of the things he had said earlier. “Ugh, I called you a ‘little girl’. How did I let myself say that?”

“That surprised me,” she said with a bright laugh. “Didn’t really know how you’d feel about all that 'Daddy’ kinkiness.”

Despite his concerns, Dean laughed with her. “I may have enjoyed that too much. Ugh, still, 'little girl’ skeeves me out.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jo said with a shimmy of her hips. “Aftercare is important. And there’s nothing better than an honest conversation after a bunch of vulgarity, debasement, and depravity,” she said with a giggle.

While eased by the sentiment, Dean’s mind wandered. So many other things he said had crawled under his skin, words he never thought he’d hear on his lips. And though he had not meant any of them, he couldn't help but wonder if they came from a place of truth, buried deep within his heart.

“You’re thinking really loudly again,” Jo teased.

The words slipped from his mouth before he thought to say them. “I want to have a kid.”

Time stood still as though balanced on the head of a pin, precarious but for the hand holding it. Dean's gaze drifted to the blue water as it swirled about his knees, content for Jo to ignore him in his moment of weakness.

He had never felt hands more delicate than hers. No, delicate did her no justice. Jo knew him. Knew him better than just about anyone aside from Sam and Castiel. Her touch revitalized him and soothed him, made him feel twenty-seven all over again. She turned his head down to hers where he found her sweet smile, and she spoke.

“You'd make an excellent father.”

Father. That word, that title weighed heaviest of them all on his weary shoulders. And yet the appeal remained. “I’d know all the things not to do at least,” he started with a laugh of his own. “And I’ve got you. You’d kick it in the ass, Jo. Mom or dad, you’d put 'em all to shame.”

“Think so?” she asked.

Dean cupped her cheek as he placed his lips on hers for long, lazy kiss. His worry abated and his fear quelled with her touch, her lips and tongue and breath all working together for that ephemeral moment of peace. When she parted from him, her eyes rolled open to stare into his and compelled him to speak.

“Without a doubt in my heart.”


End file.
